All the World's a Critic | O

The Avenue of Critics. Selton only came to this area to observe and inspect some of the newer merchandise, and this evening was no different. While she might not have shown it, she was curious to see the new inventions her fellow humans made, and especially interested in whatever snake oil the con artists could cook up. They were usually peddling some piss smelling liquid that either claimed to give bald men flowing locks, or to soothe painful joints. They always had accomplices lingering in the crowd, who would try the false medicine, and proclaim it to work. That sort of deceit always bothered Selton, who preferred good, honest work. She couldn’t personally stop the frauds from pushing their wares onto the ignorant, but could spread the doubt.

She ignored the odd and unfamiliar items on display, stopped a few times to listen to a poet or two, and ended up spending more time than she expected browsing some pottery. By the time she had neared the center of the alley, her arms were laden with scrolls, a marionette, and a small, ceramic dragon. It was really hard for her not to buy something when she saw an item that really caught her fancy.

"Come, come, gather round! I have something that will revolutionize the war against the monsters that roam outside the city walls!" Selton's ears twitched slightly at the claim. She had no real interest in weapons, but she would also like to wander out of the city without the need for an escort, or the threat of a monster weighing on her mind. So, as casual as could be, she shuffled closer to the growing crowd that surrounded the man.

As expected, the man dilly dallied by giving them a rundown of what they already knew - the monsters that had devastated Piros, the clansmen who fought to protect the people, etc., etc. Selton almost told him to come out with it already, but someone had beaten her to the punch - a pimply faced youth, of all people. "Fine, fine." the man grumbled, as he fumbled around for something on his back table.

Selton raised an eyebrow when he held up a beaker filled with a sickly green substance. "I propose - wildfire. It's an extremely volatile chemical, that burns like fire…except it's also difficult to put out, without the aid of copious amounts of sand." He paused, a wicked grin on his face as he eyed the crowd. Selton didn't know about the rest of them, but she had her doubts.

"Pah! Fire, he says! What good will that do," a wrinkled old crone near the front spat out. "You think a little fire will stop those beasts?" There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd.

"Folks, I don't think you understand here. We're taking about a substance that has the ability to burn indefinitely. Fire eventually dies out, but this-"

"Oh yeah?! Prove it!"

Little beads of sweat were forming on the inventor's face. "I… I can't. It's too dangerous to test out here…"

Selton disentangled herself from the crowd as cries of "Fraud!" and the like assailed the air. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about such a flame, anyway. A fire that could burn indefinitely? At what cost? Something that dangerous just shouldn't exist.